


Do The Limbo (The Space Between)

by ShameOnYou



Category: Actor RPF, Thor (2011) RPF
Genre: Crack, M/M, RPF, RPS - Freeform, norsekink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShameOnYou/pseuds/ShameOnYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done for Norsekink, the prompt:</p>
<p>With Chris being completely jealous of Kenneth (Branagh ;) because he assumes him and Tom are in some sort of relationship -after all,there are quite a few things they were both involved in ;). (Maybe Chris assumes Tom sleeps with Kenneth for roles?). Cue bitchy Chris,oblivious Tom and Kenneth having to play matchmaker while directing his movie....<br/>(And if Tom and Kenneth have a friends-with-benefits-thing going on I would love you forever :D)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There is a place between waking and dreaming, where the body is asleep but the mind is racing. Usually this state of limbo can be arrived at by being so exhausted, so used up, that you have gone through tired and come out the other side. Once this state of desperate awareness has been reached, the eyelids drift shut and you tell yourself _it's only for a moment_ , and then you're trapped, anchored to a body that is useless, while your mind is free- wheeling, aware of what is going on around you. Everything can be heard, all the conversations going on, people walking in and out, picking things up, putting them down, and the quietest thought drifts through your mind like smoke on a breeze, _man, I could do this. I could be blind if I could always hear like this._

Tom had put his head down mumbling, “‘s juss fr a min,” ten minutes ago. Chris had allowed his attention to wander to his phone, checking the weather or something, when the tunnel vision had hit and his head felt heavier than anything. Thus was he currently occupying the space between _asleep_ and _awake_. He could hear Chris quietly ask “Tom? Mate?” quite clearly, but all he could muster was a sort of sleepy “Mmmfh.”

 

“We have to be back on set in thirty minutes. D’you want me to wake you?”

 

“Mmmfh.”

 

“Kay.” 

 

Chris was a loud man. Possibly being Thor for so many months had exacerbated this tendency, but even his whispers were loud. Nor was his costume very quiet. He could hear Chris shift in his seat, leaning forward, and then he could feel Chris’ hand brushing his hair out of his face. 

“Makeup and Hair won’t thank you for that.” Oh, Ken was here too. Ken’s voice was nice. All rumbly and close. 

 

“They were going to have to do it again anyway. How much longer do you think?”

“Oh, not too much. You can be back at the Hotel by four, I’d imagine. I just really want to nail this rainy nighttime stuff.”

 

“Yeah, but, Ken, we’re wrecked. Look at Tom. Do you really think we’ll get anything quality tonight?”

 

“Keep the faith, man. We’ll get it.” Another hand brushing his forehead, moving errant bangs out of his face. “I’ll make it up to him. Take him out for dinner or something.”

 

“Do you guys hang out? Are you like, friends?” Tom was unused to Chris sounding unsure. It was very strange. Or possibly his mind was playing sleepy tricks on him.

 

“Yes, I like to think so. When we were filming Wallander, we hung out a lot. Ystad sort of... forces close quarters on you. The whole cast were close, don’t get me wrong, but Tom and I...” Ken trailed off. 

Tom loved the set of Wallander. Sweden was kind of unreal, with the twenty hours or so of daylight during summer. The contrast of the people though, who were so simple and earthy, they were very real against the backdrop of the midsummer fairyland of Sweden in the grip of the sun. Sometimes he thought that maybe he’d been awake for days, or maybe been asleep for days. The only real way to keep time was to synchronize everyone’s clocks and make sure you had a ‘buddy’ with the same schedule. More often than not, his buddy had been Ken. They had shared a trailer more than once, or hotel rooms, or cars. It’s just how it had worked out. He felt very lucky to have that kind of friendship with Ken, and he wouldn’t wish for it to be any other way. 

 

Ken’s hand just keeps sliding across his forehead and scalp. It’s very soothing.

 

“Ken?” 

 

“Yeah?”

 

“How do you... What happens if you get too close? Is it normal? Or am I just letting my character bleed over too much?”

 

“I don’t think you’re being unprofessional, if that’s what you mean. It’s normal to cultivate friendships on set. It wouldn’t work if you didn’t.”

 

“Yeah, but. I. He’s just so appealing! He smiles at me with that ‘Yes of course’ face and I come undone!”

 

“That’s really just Tom. I swear, he can just light up the room. There was one time, in Sweden, we were sitting next to each other and he said ... something, I forget, but I looked over at him, and he was right in front of the window, the sun was setting right behind him, and he had all that beautiful blonde hair... and I forgot how to breathe. It was like a punch to the gut. And it's never really stopped since then." 

 

Holy Christ. Did KEN BLOODY BRANAGH just admit to having a man- crush on him? 

 

"But what if it does start to affect the work? How am I supposed to deal with him looking at me like that, like the sun rises and sets on Thor? And what happens when he starts looking at me like he wants to kill me? How am I supposed to look at him like I don't love him?" 

 

And now Chris Hemsworth. Since when had Tom Hiddleston become the world’s most wanted man?

 

"Look. Just take that feeling, and hold it close to your chest. Protect it. Cup it in your hands and keep it away from other people.  For two reasons. One, it really is none of anybody else's business, and two, that love can inform all your interactions on and off camera. You can tap into it, use that feeling when Thor is happy, sad, betrayed, whatever. Don't be afraid to dabble a little in the dark side either. Love neglected can turn spiteful, vengeful. It can turn into great anger, or jealousy. Remember, these feelings are yours, but they can be Thor's too."

 

The pause is weighty. Ken's hand is still on his head, and he can hear both men breathing, can feel their eyes on him.

 

"Can I give you one more price of advice?"

 

"Anything, man."

 

"Don't do anything. Wait until after principal filming. If you're really concerned about this thing bleeding over, just wait. Pine in the manly fashion. Don't let on. Keep it quiet. If it gets better after filming, you'll know it's just stress."

 

"You love him. Why not tell him?" Chris must be as dense as teak to ask that. 

 

"Because I love my wife too, and I don't want to hurt her. And because Tom deserves more than to be an affair. I couldn’t stand the thought of having to choose which one of them to hurt."

 

"If you could, though. Tell him anything. What would you say?" 

 

"I'd tell him that I really look forward to continuing to work together. That all the time we spend together is precious. That he is cherished and respected. That I think his friendship is of great value and worth. I'd tell him that I love him." 

 

Tom can feel his heart lurch. Ken sounds so serious, so sincere. One of the best romantic leads in the world had just professed love for him out loud in front of other people. 

 

"Man, Ken. How am I supposed to compete against that?"

 

"You aren't meant to." Ken’s ‘Wallander serious business’ voice is very intimidating.

 

"Well, no. But. Hey, did you tell me to wait so you could talk to him first? Cos if it's a matter of bagsies, you had your chance." 

 

Holy shit Chris, really? Is this still secondary school? What a jock thing to say.

 

"Listen,” God, Ken sounds vicious. Scary. “I said. My wife. And I was being honest when I said I couldn't make that choice. It's not a matter of first come, first serve. He's not a buffet. He's my friend, and this is my film, and you are not going to fuck any of this up. Do I make myself clear?"

 

"I get that you're protective of him, and the film. But we are adults. I don't exactly need your permission." It’s not often that Chris’s bravado is so obviously fake. Tom can smell it. It must be super evident to Ken. 

 

"You’re only an adult by comparison to a teenager. And I think you'll find that if you do anything to jeopardize this project, Marvel will be after your ass, not just me. So be told: not now. Wait." And with that, Ken left, drawing his hand one final time across Tom's scalp and down his neck, across the shoulder. 

 

"Christ. You'd think you were his daughter for all that." Soft clicks as Chris fiddled with his mobile. “Tom, mate, it’s time to go over to the makeup caravan.”

Oh, fuckballs. Really? Chris shakes his shoulder a little more roughly than necessary. Compensating, clearly. And he’s going to pretend like that whole conversation never happened. Stupid Aussie machismo. He can’t deal with this bullshit without any sleep.

 

“mmmmmnnnnnnnNo.”

 

“Come on now, or Ken’ll have both our arses. If I buy you a latte, will you wake up?” Tom cracks his eyelid open after a decent interval. It’s a legit test of willpower, though. Begging is a good look for Hemsworth. 

 

“Pillock. The coffee is free. You’ll have to tempt me more than that.” Give the guy a smile. What could it hurt?

 

“I’ll carry you. Not a piggy back, mind, but a drunk shoulder carry. That’s pretty manly. Thor can do that.”

 

“Piggy back or I go back to the hotel now. Ken likes me best. If I ask, he’ll let me go.” Turning on a bit of ‘spoiled prince’ seems appropriate. If stupid Chris is gonna bro it up, then Tom will cut him down with really icy politeness. 

 

“But then we’ll just be back here tomorrow night. Let’s just go do it and then we can get to sleep.”

 

“Oh, nice. ‘Let’s just go do it’. Classy. I can see why you get all the girls.” And he meant it to sting.

 

“Tom. I’m gonna fireman’s carry you if I have to. This can be dignified or not.”

 

“It’s two thirty in the morning. The most attractive thing I have seen recently is the back of my eyelids. I actually have no shame right now. If you can carry my dead weight in a fireman’s carry, go ahead. Otherwise, I want my piggyback. To the coffee cart and to makeup.” 

 

“Oh, all right. But you have to get on the table to get up here, all right? Help me out a little.”

 

Tom gives a little Loki sniff. Very haughty. “Fine. I suppose I can deign to help you out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike my fictional Tom, I am possessed of a sense of shame. But only just. Christ. Glitterandlube is right: "Once a person is perverted, it is practically impossible for them to adjust to normal attitudes about sex."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will up date this... eventually. I'm working on it when I can. I can be bribed with comments. And porn.

Ken gives a little sigh as he packs his notes into his bag. _This three thirty in the morning shit has got to go. I am too old for this_ , he thinks.

He’s looking around for his water when he hears a light knocking. _Who-?_

“Come in. But make it quick. I’m tired.”

“I can come back later if you’d rather.” Tom’s voice is a lot more energetic than he’d have expected, given the hour that they’d put in since his little nap.

“Tom! I really wasn’t expecting you, I thought you went back with Chris.”

“Yeah, well. I really wanted to talk to you for a minute, just us.”

“Sure, yeah, anything. Is this about the stuff we just shot? Cos really, I’m happy with it and if Chris is waiting for you...”

“No, it’s fine,” Tom crosses his arms over his chest and smiles at Ken. “Chris just went on the first bus, and I told him I’d follow on the second. And no, this is not about the scene we just shot. I wanted to tell you that I heard your conversation with Chris. When I was asleep on the table.”

Ken sits down on the couch. “What? But- you were _asleep_. How could you...?”

Tom sits next to him. “You know those times when you’re sort of... in between? Where you can hear a fly land on the other side of the room but your body feels like it’s made of lead? Yeah. That was me on the table.” Tom takes Ken’s hands in his own, and Ken looks down at them. His own hands are red and kind of splotchy and pudgy, swollen with tiredness. Tom’s hands are long, thin, white and strong around his. It’s amazing.

Tom ducks his head to catch Ken’s eye before he speaks. “I love you too, you know. You could say that without hurting anyone.”

“But we can’t-” Ken shakes his head, all denial. “I mean, nothing could ever come of it. So why would you...?”

Tom leans forward, resting their foreheads together. “Because I think we can know each other and love each other without hurting anyone. I really believe that our friendship can only grow from this.” He squeezes Ken’s hands between his own. “No matter what happens, we will always have our friendship as the foundation for everything else. That comes first. _Nothing_ is more important to me than that fact. Please, _please_ , I need you to know that as a fact. It’s, like, irrefutable. Not debatable.”

“Tom. I don’t want any hurt feelings or resentment. That would be my worst fear. I want you to always feel that I am giving you all I can, and never anything less. At the same time though, my wife comes first. That cannot be up for debate.”

“I know.” Tom lets go of Ken’s hands to cup his face. “I would never argue that point. Can you trust me with this? If nothing else, just this?” Their lips brush together as Tom speaks.

For one agonizing moment, Ken is perfectly still and says nothing. Then, slowly and suddenly as the dawn, he nods. Tom closes the last fraction of an inch between their lips, kissing for all he’s worth. Ken’s lips soften and open slightly as the last bit of tension drains away. After a minute, he wraps his arms around Ken’s neck and rubs his nose alongside Ken’s as he speaks.

“When Chris asked what you’d say if you could say anything. I was so moved. I really wanted to cry. I still kind of do. I mean, all that Shakespeare, all the romantic leads, all the words you’ve borrowed, and you picked ‘friendship’, ‘precious’, ‘cherished and respected’, ‘value and worth’. I have literally never been more impressed or aroused in my life, and I am so in love with you because you _knew_ just exactly the right thing to say to me. No one has ever known me the way you do. You may have spoiled me for anyone else.”

Tom kisses Ken again, opening his mouth, tracing Ken’s bottom lip with his tongue before gently sucking on it. He cradles Ken’s face with his hand, strokes his cheek with his thumb. Making out with Ken sets him on fire, makes him feel like he is flying, like he's about to burst out of his skin. He’s got to get closer to Ken, so he climbs onto Ken’s lap, straddles him, holds him close enough to feel his dick pressing up against Ken’s belly.

Ken’s hands, meanwhile, travel up and down his back, tightening on his shoulders, then stroking down to knead his arse. It makes a nice counter rhythm to the slow grind he’s doing in Ken’s lap. He feels wanton, he craves the feel of Ken’s skin against his own and under his hands, he wants to make Ken feel as loved as he does. He pulls one hand away from Ken’s face to try and slide it under the shirt he’s wearing, only to be thwarted by the button- up and under vest combo. Not to be deterred, he pulls them out from under him and snakes his hand up from the waistband of Ken’s trousers. He feels the warm softness of Ken’s stomach, the crisp texture of his hair, and as he moves his hand further up he can feel Ken’s heart thundering in his chest. He drifts over to brush across a nipple then takes it gently between two knuckles and strokes it with his thumb.

This seems to be a line in the sand for Ken, though. He takes Tom’s hand away from his chest and breaks the kiss.

"I can’t. You deserve to be more than an affair. And I can't just do this without talking to Lindsay. I can't hurt her. It's not fair."

"I don't want you to. I just want you to talk to me. About everything. Don't hide from me or try to protect me. I'm a big boy, Ken, and if I want to love you nothing can stop me. I don't want to hurt you either. And I don't want you to feel pressured. We can just be friends. It's cool. But I think that we have to be adults and admit that we are friends who are in love and we're totally hot for each other. We don't ever have to do anything you're uncomfortable with. But I'm also gonna kiss you again because I really just have to."

He kisses like it's his last chance, like it's the last thing he'll ever do, once again wrapping his hands around Ken's jaw to tilt his face upward.

As he's trying to devour Ken's mouth he cards his hand through Ken's short cropped blonde hair and presses his hips down onto Ken's lap, pleased to find his friend's interest evident against his thigh. He grabs one of Ken's hands and places it over his front, lightly holding it there while he traces the outline of Ken's thin lips with his tongue, dipping it inside his mouth repeatedly in a parody of the act that they won't commit.

Tom kisses his way to Ken's ear and very breathily whispers, "Oh, god, I could kiss you all night. Never wanna stop, love you, love kissing you... You're gonna have to tell me..." Without waiting for an answer, he nibbles on the lobe of Ken's ear before sucking on his neck just gently enough to not leave a mark.

Ken moves his hands to Tom's bottom, pressing him down hard onto his cock while grinding up, trying to maneuver them both to get some pressure on their cocks. Tom rubs himself softly on Ken's stomach while making sure Ken gets the benefit of the little back and forth movements of his hips.

Ken finally speaks. "If one or both of us comes in his pants like a teenager, we're both going to feel like jerks. If you keep that up," he smacks Tom's arse and then palms it, "the likelihood of that happening approaches certainty." He takes a deep breath as he pushes up into the movement one last time. "I don't want things to go that far tonight. I don't want to do anything I'll..." Ken bites back the word 'regret', because he never ever wants it applied to Tom.

"I don't want you to regret anything tonight either. I understand." Tom sits back, sliding off of Ken's lap. He leans their foreheads together again, just breathing with his friend for a minute.

“I hope,” he says after a while, “that this isn’t the last time I get to kiss you, and I hope that there won’t be any awkwardness between us. It would really kill me to feel like this spoiled our friendship.”

“It’s fine. It’s all fine.” Ken kisses him, chastely, like a promise, kisses his hands where they are clasped between his own. “You should go back to the hotel, though. Has the bus left yet?”

Tom checks his phone. “Four minutes. Plenty of time.” He grins like a fool. His head is swimming, he’s beyond exhausted, he’s still hard enough that walking funny will be an issue, but he also feels like he’s glowing. “Kiss me again, for ‘Goodnight’.”

Ken smiles back, kissing him thoroughly and deep, and pulls him up to stand. “I don’t want you to miss your bus.” They kiss for the few short steps it takes to the door, then Tom insists on several while standing on the stairs of Ken’s trailer. After the third ‘Just one more,’ Ken laughs and says, “Last one, for real, then you GO.” It is perfect and soft and it makes Tom swoon and it makes him more excited than he’s ever been. He feels like he’s full of champagne. They whisper ‘Goodnight’ against each other’s lips, and he holds onto Ken’s hands as long as he can while he walks away towards the shuttle area.


End file.
